The Risk of Recent Reveries

Ghana. 1957.

How do you un-teach the colonial id? Teachers, teachers, teachers! Enter King Kwame Nkrumah.

Green graduates from lucent Legon are civically coaxed to desert collective-clan desires; no present need for all those bankers and lawyers and accountants. Go and teach! I will pay you better than them, anyway.

The rest is anti-heroic history. Nkrumah waned. Coming kings re-colonised and paid serf-rates to our educators.

Ghana. Present day.

Beware, all those people whose heads are sailing slick in oil-and-gas dreams. You may be the new teachers.

Damsel Twice Distressed

Last Tuesday at ten pm, a woman's Seat 'something' sedan struck a sudden flame which snarled to scorch the car to cinders. Other cars stopped to help; no less than twelve counted I. The guy who 'kerbed' his Land Rover first, and brought out a fire extinguisher (kind man, bless his heart) would not accept anything more than her thanks. Except for the price of his extinguisher- thirty Ghana Cedis! Who asked him to help?

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Wisdom Over A Fufu Bowl

The women chow down massive mounds; the men just chirp and peck. Or so it strikes one at Lalas Local at 18 Junction.

My fulsome gob of Fufu & Goat-Light fast grows lighter; the women wolf down morsels; the men mouth up words.

The full facts flop in my face over a cleaned-out, soup-stained dish. The women go to eat; the men go to take the women there.

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Death by Lightning

If it was a stroll in the park for all things evil to smite the blameless with a lightning bolt in the days before 'the light', why did anybody survive to be colonised?

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Yeah, PermEnent...

As seen in the Spintex Road traffic. True to his promise, the gridlock was not permEnent. I reached the Mall only 15 minutes after I took this picture. The Mall was only 40 metres away.